"Oh, please do it now," Freddie urged, always in a hurry for things.

"We couldn't to-day, dear," Aunt Sarah told him. "Come, let me show you
our new little calf."

"Let me ride her?" Freddie asked, as they reached the animal.

"Calfs aren't for riding, they're for milk," Flossie spoke up.

"Yes, this one drinks plenty of milk," Aunt Sarah said, while Frisky,
the calf, rubbed her head kindly against Aunt Sarah's skirts.

"Then let me take her for a walk," Freddie pleaded, much in love with
the pretty creature.

"And they don't walk either," Flossie persisted. "They mostly run."

"I could just hold the rope, couldn't I, Aunt Sarah?"

"If you keep away from the barnyard gate, and hold her very tight," was
the consent given finally, much to Freddie's delight.

"Nice Frisky," he told the calf, petting her fondly. "Pretty calf, will
you let Snoop play with you?" Frisky was sniffing suspiciously all the
time, and Aunt Sarah had taken Flossie in the barn to see the chickens'
nests.

"Come, Frisky, take a walk," suggested Freddie, and quite obediently
the little cow walked along. But suddenly Frisky spied the open gate